


i want your love, i want your disease

by maisiedaisy



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Kavinsky being a violent shit, Language, M/M, Prokopenko is my child and deserves better than K but who cares, but it's hard to write pure fluff with a character like Kavinsky, implied sexual stuff happening, mentions of drug use maybe i kinda forgot actually, okay so this was supposed to be only fluff, probably an unhealthy relationship, some people suck dick but it's like barely there so don't get excited, uh what else?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maisiedaisy/pseuds/maisiedaisy
Summary: Prokopenko is maybe too attached to Joseph Kavinsky but he doesn't mind much.Or a day with the Dream Pack.





	

The morning is dappled sunlight against broken beer bottles and air stale with the aftercloud of spice and marijuana. Tan fingers comb through pale strands, catching on sunlight, tripping over light locks. While Kavinsky watches, Prokopenko sleeps and the big echoing mansion is a strange sort of  _ loudquietloudsilent _ . It’s all very teenage-romantic, soft-spoken, quiet kisses against quiet lips. It’s nothing like Joseph Kavinsky and that’s why it’s exactly like him. 

Prokopenko makes a soft sort of sighing sound, his breath winding around Kavinsky’s collarbones, a necklace of breaths that has Kavinsky shivering. In these moments Kavinsky thinks maybe he could love Proko. In these moments he kind of does. “K,” is Proko’s morning greeting, his voice thick with sleep or maybe that’s fondness. Kavinsky is moonlight quiet, an unearthly calm, after-sex pondering silent and it’s sort of beautiful the way his lips pucker around the P and fall just slightly open on the O as he mouths Proko’s name into his ribcage

The moment is expectedly stolen by the sound of a T.V. being switched on in the other room. Kavinsky remembers who he’s supposed to be and rolls over, drawing his nails across Proko’s abdomen in warning as he does so. Proko knows what this means-- _ not a word _ . Proko shuts his eyes and turns his face away.

 

The afternoon is an empty classroom in Aglionby and five boys with cigarette smiles and matches for fingers. Later it melts into Kavinsky egging Ronan Lynch on and Prokopenko recognizing K’s hate as desire. Proko spitefully lets Swan fuck him in the driver's seat of the dark-skinned boy’s car, Swan’s fingers not pressing hard enough and his teeth not leaving marks the way K would. 

Kavinsky fucks up Swan’s nose when he finds out because there is no one in this world more possessive than Joseph Kavinsky and no one in this world who belongs to Kavinsky more than Artem Prokopenko. Prokopenko sneers at Kavinsky when he’s finished and maybe yeah he’s a little bit turned on but he’s not gonna let K know because he’s already been fucked too many times that day and Kavinsky smells a little bit like Ronan fucking Lynch. 

It’s around 4:00 when the sun seems a little too high and a little too bright. It’s Proko’s favorite time of day because Swan and Skov disappear into the forest, an eager bounce in their step, and Jiang runs off to Declan Lynch for “study sessions”. It’s also when Kavinsky lets Proko lay his head in his lap. It’s these moments when Kavinsky thinks Proko looks beautiful and it makes his eyes ache in an  _ ohgodicantbreathehelookslikeiwanttostainhimtainthimhurthimlovehim  _ way. Prokopenko is an amber setting sun, eyes lit with an ocean blue “don’t look away”, and freckles warm to the touch, Kavinsky’s fingertips melting as he traces constellations on the younger boy’s skin. 

It’s 4:11 when Proko falls a little bit more in love with the hollowed boy above him. 

 

The evening is a slow simmer of “what’s going to happen tonight?” that makes the boys feel heavy with awareness. They’re at their most sober when the sun dips behind the treeline and the soft colors turn harsh and cutting. Kavinsky spends these moments dreaming up whatever’s gonna fuck the boys over later on. 

Skov and Proko braid each other’s hair, the evening air curling blue strands with gold gold gold and Kavinsky thinks that Proko might be the only grounding thing in his life. He wants to tie Proko’s heart to his wrist, keep him next to him forever, and bite his name into Proko’s collarbones so everyone knows who Prokopenko belongs to. 

Except as Proko smiles shyly at a college boy who heats his eyes on Proko’s body,  Kavinsky realizes that maybe Prokopenko isn’t as attached as he thought. Kavinsky picks a fight with the boy just because. Proko doesn’t speak to him for the next ten minutes, not until Kavinsky’s got his mouth wrapped around Proko's cock and he’s swallowing swallowing swallowing. 

Proko sighs and mouths  _ I love you  _ against K’s thigh as he returns the favor.

 

The night is trembling, drugged, and lit like a firework every heartbeat drowning in a rush of chemicals. Kavinsky is laughing, his eyes wild once again, turned into a feral beast built for nighttime and aching for a fight. “Lynch.” He slurs into his phone. “Get the fuck down here, I wanna race.” Racing is practically sex to Kavinsky so Prokopenko doesn’t let the bulgarian boy throw his arm around Proko’s shoulders. It gives him a tiny bit of satisfaction when K grumbls a “whatever” and crosses his arms, a pout replacing his drunk grin. 

It’s an hour and five fucks between the Dream Pack later when Ronan finally shows and it’s in a stain of tire marks and “fuck K, didn’t know you wanted me so bad”. Proko glares at the other boy and tugs at K’s earlobe with his teeth, a reminder of “he’s mine”. Ronan grins at him, his teeth glaring white against the dark ink he’s engulfed in. 

Kavinsky’s mood sours when Adam Parrish, dusty poor boy, speaks up from Lynch’s side. “No way, Ronan. I’m not driving with you when you’re racing.” Parrish’s voice is not hushed and his disgusted glare towards the Dream Pack is not subtle. “Then get the fuck out, Parrish. You’re not my keeper and I’m not your wife or some shit.” Ronan’s voice is so full of shit and sneering that Prokopenko laughs at the absurdity of it all because fucking hell Ronan Lynch is so gone for Adam Parrish.

Ronan glares at Proko, his mouth a match for a wildfire. “The fuck you laughing at you goddamn cocksucking whore.” The insults mean nothing and Proko is surprised at the venom lacking from his voice.

Kavinsky waves away the words from the air and revs his engine, the effect is almost seductive, Ronan’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Fuckin’ watch out K, you’re gonna be eating my dust.” And then they’re off and Prokopenko is breathless with the glint in K’s eyes. He’s  _ hungry  _ and Proko knows that he’s gonna be fucked raw later. 

While they’re gone, Swan takes the minutes he has to pull Proko to him, sit him between his open legs and tongue at his ears and neck. Parrish shifts uncomfortable and Proko grins at him, eyebrows quirked daringly. Parrish looks away quickly when Skov kneels at Proko’s feet and Swan’s hand disappears into his pants. Proko laughs and lets Skov mouth at his briefs, knowing exactly how K will react when he comes back. 

It’s a shitstorm and Proko loves it.  K’s got Skov doubling over from a punch to his gut, gasping for air, whispering threats into the blue-haired boy’s ear. His mouth is on fire and Proko wants to lick the flames from his tongue. Skov is clutching at another bloody nose, his eyes glowing with something feral and  _ amused _ . Ronan is a roll of clear eyes and a sarcastic comment to Parrish. When Kavinsky turns to Proko, his eyes hold Proko in place and he shivers at the violence in them. “ _ You.” _ His voice is scathing and  _ Oh God Proko can feel it in his very bones.  _ “You’re  _ mine. My dream toy _ .” Proko lets Kavinsky pull his tongue into his mouth and finds that he doesn’t disagree.

  
1:00 a.m. is Prokopenko whispering “I love you” into Kavinsky’s ear and Kavinsky coming undone, cheeks flushed, hands gentle, breathy sighs and “say it again” a chorus on his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Bad Romance because it's such a Proko and Kavinsky song. Except not the Lady Gaga one, the 30 Seconds to Mars version because it's so raw and sexual. Definitely go check it out, it'll change your life. Also I tried so hard to find out what Prokopenko's first name was but I couldn't find it anywhere so I just googled Ukrainian names (because I'm with the whole Ukranian!Prokopenko) and chose the first name I saw.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Maybe one day I'll write Prokopenko and Kavinsky in a healthy, loving relationship but for now, here's this.  
> Peace.


End file.
